A.N./ Uther drabble. Tell me if this is crazily off, but this an Uther death. If it's off, call it AU. Rated K+, and inspired by Find the Cost of Freedom, by Crosby, Stills and Nash.
It felt good, the dirt folding around him and rubbing against his skin. Almost as if he was a part of the earth now. A single atom swallowed in a sea of molecules.
It rose and spread around him, coating the air and sliding down his throat like bread. It filled him and nourished his long-famished soul. For tyranny and dictatorship is a quality that few can stand to dish out without lasting, maddening damage.
Yes, it felt good. Shudders of pleasure convulsed him and dragged him down further as the sky darkened. It wasn't bad to die at all.
Find the cost of freedom
buried in the ground.
Mother Earth will swallow you,
lay your body down.
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